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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423578">Sweet as Pie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Food Kink, Humiliation, Humiliation kink, Inspired by Fanart, Masturbation, VERY unaware Rey, ben fucks a pie what else do i even need to tag, food fucking, pervert Ben Solo, pie kink, rey is a cute pie shop owner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:01:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,587</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28423578</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben's a big fan of Rey's famous homemade pies.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sweet as Pie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWitchChugsHerCoffee/gifts">TheWitchChugsHerCoffee</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Mika has unlocked yet another kink for me. Today, it's a food fucking kink.</p><p>This is based off her amazing <a href="https://twitter.com/WitchyScribbles/status/1343316315067465729">NSFW pie-fucking piece.</a></p><p>Someone needed to write this. </p><p>So I did. </p><p> </p><p>(If you know who I am, and I'm sure a few of you will, let's keep it a secret between us mmkay thank u)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The overhead bell on the door jangles at approximately 6:15 pm, exactly 45 minutes before she needs to lock the doors, clean the counters and freeze tomorrow’s dough for early morning baking. </p><p> </p><p>Rey has her head ducked into the glass chill case, rearranging some of the smaller desserts but a grin adorns her face when she rises and catches a glimpse at her very familiar and <em> very </em>cute regular. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi, Ben! Good to see you again!”</p><p> </p><p>He’s so shy, like usual, giving her a small wide and cheeky grin. For a man of his size, he still finds clothes large enough that it looks like he’s practically swimming in them, which doesn’t even seem possible. </p><p> </p><p>Ben’s been coming for a couple months now and Rey likes his tips almost as much as the sparkle in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>He approaches the counter, a hand nervously wrapped around his neck and the other tucked away in his pocket. Rey brushes the crumbs off her hands and apron, and plants herself at the till. There still might be a bit of flour on her black shirt, and normally she's concerned to clean it off in front of a customer. </p><p> </p><p>“What’ll it be today?” She asks, grin wide. “I have some quiches in the back, leftover from breakfast.”</p><p> </p><p>Ben shakes his head. “Ah, no quiches today, thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>He really is a sweets guy. Rey has always leaned more towards savory, which earned her Aussie pies awards throughout the city and county, but Ben will <em> always </em>choose something sugary and fruity. </p><p> </p><p>“You sure?” Rey places a hand on her hip and doesn’t miss his blush. “They’re still nice and fresh. And I can throw one in the oven real quick?”</p><p> </p><p>She watches his throat bob. “U-uh, no thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Ben’s eyes wander up to the above menu where he scans the pies of the week, even though he must have them already memorized. </p><p> </p><p>“Can I have the marionberry pie again?”</p><p> </p><p>A good choice, in Rey’s professional opinion. </p><p> </p><p>“Sure!” Rey exclaims. “Let me go grab it from the fridge!”</p><p> </p><p>She races to the kitchen and scours for the marionberry pies, finding them towards the back. They were all fresh baked this morning, so Ben will be having the <em> best </em>dessert tonight. </p><p> </p><p>With a few practiced maneuvers, Rey settles the pie in a paper bag and throws in a few forks and napkins for safety. </p><p> </p><p>“I already told you, I don’t need the utensils, Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>She laughs. “You never know! Sometimes I get cravings on the drive home and I can’t help myself.” </p><p> </p><p>Ben tries to chuckle but it sounds forced and choked. </p><p> </p><p>He hands her a twenty and the drawer pops open with a satisfying <em> clink. </em>Rey can hear his large food drum against the concrete floor of the shop as she counts back his change. </p><p> </p><p>Rey gathers the handles of the bag and offers it towards Ben. </p><p> </p><p>“Wow! Third pie this week!” Rey hasn’t been keeping count. She <em> promises.  </em></p><p> </p><p>His face is pinker than raspberry jam when he picks up the bag with bear-paw hands. </p><p> </p><p>“Hahaha...yea…” </p><p> </p><p>Such a sweet soft chuckles from such a big, intimidating man. </p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t look her in the eyes when waving goodbye. It’s not Ben’s fault he’s shy. </p><p> </p><p>Rey sighs. Might as well start on her closing duties. </p><p> </p><p>🥧 🥧 🥧 </p><p> </p><p>Ben lets out the world’s largest exhale the second he steps off the property of <em> Rey’s Pies.  </em></p><p> </p><p>He’s close enough that he can half-run, half-walk back to his apartment, but even then, he’s running up the three flights of stairs and unlocking the door with trembling hands. </p><p> </p><p>He can’t get the image of her smile out of his head. Or the flour that was splattered on her tits. </p><p> </p><p>Christ, Ben is so pathetic now. He could get hard at just the <em> thought </em> of her eating. Eating pie. Eating quiche. <em> Anything.  </em></p><p> </p><p>The oven is the first thing turned on in his apartment. Then the lights. Then, Ben’s taking off his shoes and sweatshirt. The oven will take at least a few minutes to heat up and during this time, Ben will be...thinking about things. </p><p> </p><p>Her voice is probably as sweet as the marionberries in the pie. </p><p> </p><p>Ben won’t know though; it’s not like it’s going anywhere near his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>The oven screams its sound of preparation and Ben all but <em> throws </em>the foil dish onto the rack. He balances on his heels, peering through the tinted window on the door as he feels his pants get tighter and tighter. </p><p> </p><p>It only takes a minute or two, but then he’s pulling the pie out with bare hands, not minding the slight tinge of burn along his fingertips. The foil always gets hotter than the contents. And he’s not using a <em> cold </em>pie. </p><p> </p><p>Ben places it carefully onto his table, double-checking the blinds are closed and the door is locked. Small waves of steam arise from the top and he dips a single finger into the center, double checking the temperature. </p><p> </p><p>It’s fucking perfect. </p><p> </p><p>He always feels bad before and after. Embarrassment creeps into his mind whenever he slowly frees his dick or carves the hole with his finger that’ll fit <em> amazingly </em>tight and hot. He knows it will, because it’s Rey’s pie and her pies are perfect, just like her. </p><p> </p><p>The table threatens to break under his grip when Ben gets the first thrust in. </p><p> </p><p>He sees stars immediately, the gooeyness of the berries and syrup creating a sensation like no other. Ben remains totally seated in the pie for a few moments because he might come on the spot if he moves, opting to take gasping breaths and screw his eyes shut. </p><p> </p><p>And when he starts moving, the moans start too. </p><p> </p><p>Like always, Ben grabs the hem of his t-shirt and shoves it into his mouth, keeping the fabric away from staining and creating a makeshift gag. He can’t afford another neighbor knocking on the door and telling him to keep it down. Might as well shoot him if that happens again. </p><p> </p><p>Each pie has a different texture, Ben discovers. Pumpkin is stringy and soft, while apples are hotter and bumpier. Pecan was an all-in-all <em> disaster </em>and cream pie was a little too soft. </p><p> </p><p>Marionberry is slowly becoming his favorite, though. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe because it’s her speciality and she knows it. </p><p> </p><p>The filling is cooling, so Ben sits on the edge of his dining room chair and pulls out, hissing at the air hitting his dick. He <em> could </em> keep fucking it until it’s cold and like jelly, <em> or… </em></p><p> </p><p>He grabs a scoop of the pie before even thinking. </p><p> </p><p>Ben thrusts into his hand as he feels the syrup and bits of seed drip down his shaft and balls, moans and grunts filling the air. He presses the tip of his thumb to the head each time his fist returns to the top, smearing the purple slop into his skin and veins. His dick and hand compensate for the lack of warmth, thankfully. </p><p> </p><p>The feeling is strange yet fulfilling- the texture of the seeds and crust are just wrong enough that it stops him from coming at every pump, but the jelly and sugar meld together to create a symphony of pleasure and satisfaction. </p><p> </p><p>He slowly wonders what Rey would think if she saw him like this, legs sprawled wide, spit soaking his shirt and pre-cum mixing with her homemade filling. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Phhuck!”  </em></p><p> </p><p>His voice echoes a little too loudly for his liking. In shame and hopefully to help further gag himself, Ben grabs the paper bag that accompanied the pie and plops it over his head. The added sense of security mixed with the shame makes him harder than he thought possible. </p><p> </p><p>Ben’s stroking furiously now, the sounds of pie contents dripping and wet skin slapping skin making his cock pulse in his hand. He’s so dirty, so disgusting, to be doing something like this. </p><p> </p><p>It only makes his stroke faster and harder. </p><p> </p><p>The first waves of pleasure start in his spine as Ben rubs a perfect spot right under his cockhead, his balls aching and begging for attention. He just needs a little bit more- something that will tilt him over the edge and send cum spurting up his bare chest. </p><p> </p><p>His mind conjures up a vision of Rey in her waist apron and nothing more; tits covered in flour and marionberry syrup, and his cock in her mouth as she sucks messily around the tip. </p><p> </p><p>“<em>Fuck!” </em> Ben cries, his orgasm hitting him. “<em>Rey! </em>”</p><p> </p><p>The ropes of cum are hot against his belly and Ben even feels a few hit the bag. The picture of Rey remains in his head, prolonging the orgasm, until he’s gasping and slowing the insane speed of his fist. </p><p> </p><p>Shame hits him faster than exhaustion. </p><p> </p><p>But Ben doesn’t clean himself off.</p><p> </p><p>No, no, no, Ben remains in his seat, suffocating slightly in the paper bag and running through a handful of fantasies that he tried to deny to himself before, but now run free. </p><p> </p><p>Rey covered in strawberry filling, withering on top of his table and fucking herself with his fingers, <em> also </em>coated in strawberry filling. </p><p> </p><p>Ben below Rey as her breasts sway above him, meringue dripping off her nipples and collarbone. </p><p> </p><p>A pie in one of his hands, his cock <em> in </em>said pie, and the other hand gripping one of Rey’s thighs as she rides his face, cinnamon glaze spread over and in her folds while Ben licks every last inch of her clean. </p><p> </p><p>It’s enough to make him hard again. </p><p> </p><p>🥧 🥧 🥧</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yummy!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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